First Years this way
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Where you end up for your seven years at Hogwarts is important, of course. Many might even say it is the most important event that will happen in your entire life. Whether you find yourself in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, or Ravenclaw, what matters is that, at Hogwarts, your house can impact who you become, as a person. These children of the next generation might just agree.
1. Edward Lupin

_2009_

He had so many options before him, so many paths that he could take, each in a different direction. There was no telling what house Teddy Lupin would end up in, not considering his interesting heritage.

A mother and grandfather in Hufflepuff, a father in Gryffindor, and the long history of Blacks who had ended up in Slytherin every time. There was also Teddy's godparents, who were both Gryffindors in their Hogwarts days.

Harry had told Teddy, just before it was time to hurry onto the train, that no one minded _what_ house Teddy ended up in, as long as he was happy. As long as _he_, Teddy, made sure he was where he belonged, Harry would be proud of his godson.

But that didn't make Teddy feel too much calmer about his upcoming placement. After all, what if he _did_ end up in Slytherin? Sure, Nonny Andi had been in Slytherin, and she was a lovely person, but that didn't meant that _Teddy_ belonged in Slytherin.

What had the Sorting Hat said, again? That Slytherin was the house of the ambitious? Teddy didn't feel too terribly ambitious at that moment, only queasy and a tad hungry, having been too nervous to eat the whole train ride here.

The lamps and candles that filled the Great Hall seemed to glitter and glimmer against the faces of the other students watching as the first years waited in fear for their name to be called.

"Armandarez, Carter," Professor Shrever said just then, as Headmistress McGonagall finished her opening speech, which Teddy had not heard a word of.

The first student, a tall boy with dark hair and tanned skin, made his way up the steps, and sat down on the three-legged stool that Professor Shrever had set out. The Sorting Hat, now resting on _Armandarez, Carter_'s head, shifted slightly for a moment or two before calling out "_Gryffindor!_", the first placing of the night.

The Gryffindor table erupted into applause as Armandarez, Carter handed the Hat back to Professor Shrever and made his way over to the house of gold and red. The other houses clapped politely as the next name was called, this time an Asian boy named Atgetmeier, Yohannes.

Teddy gave Carter a brief look, deciding the boy did not strike him as much of a Gryffindor, with a smirk crawling across his lips as he sat down at the Gryffindor table. Instead, he struck Teddy as much more Slytherin-like.

Teddy drowned out the sound of the Sorting in front of him, instead choosing to focus on what he recalled about the four houses.

Slytherin, the house of snakes, was for the sneaky and ambitious, filled with the sorts of students who would double-cross even their best friend if they thought something could be gained from doing so.

They had recently been attempting to recover from the image of the "evil house" that Lord Voldemort had forced upon the house.

Teddy knew, of course, that not all, or even _most_, Slytherins were evil; his grandmother was a friendly, helpful woman, and even his great-aunt Cissy wasn't _that_ bad. She always gave him a biscuit or two when he had to visit the Malfoy Manor.

But that did not mean he was ready to join the house of the snakes, especially because he didn't feel particularly cunning or sneaky, like the Hat talked about.

"Grant, Terra," Professor Shrever said, and a brown-haired girl with a braid made her way up to the stool, cramming the Hat onto her head.

Again, the Hat took very little time to consider before placing Grant, Terra in Gryffindor, where she joined Carter Armandarez, Zacharias Bank, and Elle Davis, to the sound of applause and cheering from the other Gryffindors.

And that made Teddy consider Gryffindor, the house of the bold and brave, the house of the fighters, the house of his father and godfather. Was his place there, with those noisy, excitable kids who already seemed to have made it their goal to make sure that the rest of the school would never forget them?

No, no, Teddy decided, _not for him_. He was not brave, nor terribly bold, instead preferring to watch the adventures from the safety of the sidelines.

He was not the sort to leap into danger without considering the consequences, and he did not think that he had very much in common with those noisy, attention-grabbing students of Gryffindor.

"Hallisey, Liam," called Professor Shrever, calling up a tall blond male, who seemed to have no problem at all with sitting down in front of the entire school, the Sorting Hat resting comfortably on his head.

"_Hufflepuff!_" the Hat cried after twenty seconds of deliberation, during which the confident look on Hallisey's face became more and more frantic.

The blond seemed somewhat put-out at his placing, but made his way to the politely cheering house of Hufflepuff anyway, settling down next to a boy that Teddy remembered from the train ride, Seth Bacharach.

Maybe Teddy's place was in Hufflepuff, like his mum. He had always considered himself to be fairly helpful and friendly, and he had always liked the idea of the feelings of community that he had heard about from Auntie Hannah.

Hufflepuff sounded like a good place to be, all things considered, and Teddy began to daydream of yellow and black robes, of cheering on the badgers at every Quidditch match, of sleeping in a cozy dorm very near the school kitchens.

He wondered if his mum might have encouraged him to go to Hufflepuff, had she still been alive to encourage him to do anything. Teddy had heard his mum was a hard worker, if a little clumsy, just like Teddy. Perhaps he'd fit right in at Hufflepuff, then.

"Jones, Norman," is called up just then, and Teddy watched as a short, chubby boy scrambled over to the stool, slamming himself down with such force that the chair creaks. Teddy heard the snickers and tittering of the other students, but Norman didn't seem to notice or care.

"Ravenclaw!" the Hat called after mere seconds of deliberation, and in the next instance, Norman was rushing over to the Ravenclaw table, a bright smile on his face as he sat amongst the cheering sea of blue and bronze.

_Ravenclaw_…the last house, the house meant for those who were smart and favoured intelligence above everything else. He had heard that Ravenclaw could be very harsh, at times, and could be cruel to those who were not as smart or as obsessive as the majority of the students were.

But he had also heard that they were willing to help anyone who asked, if they ever needed help with homework, and were happy to hand out information when it was requested of them. Teddy had always liked learning.

Perhaps he belonged in Ravenclaw, then, where there were no previous family members for Teddy to carry on a legacy for. Perhaps his place was amongst the eagles, in blue and bronze robes, where he would be the _very first_ of his kind.

"Lupin, Edward," Professor Shrever said loudly, pulling Teddy from his thoughts, and he straightened up, making his way up to the Hat with trembling knees.

The whole school was watching Teddy as the Hat was placed on his head, slipping over Teddy's eyes, so that all he could see was the inside.

"_Lupin, eh?_" croaked the Hat, and Teddy had to resist nodding back to it, though he wanted to, if only to be polite. "_I remember both of your parents well. The Hufflepuff and the Gryffindor. The werewolf and the Metamorphagus. And you are a little of both of them-and neither at all, isn't that right, Teddy Lupin?_"

"I suppose so, sir," Teddy whispered back to the Hat, which chuckled at his response. "Please just put me where you think I belong."

"_Where you belong, eh? Very well, if that's what you want, I guess it must be_ HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat yelled the last word loud enough for the whole school to hear, and suddenly, there is light and noise all around as the Hat is pulled off of his head.

"Off you go, Mr. Lupin," Professor Shrever said, not unkindly, and Teddy jumped from the stool, settling down next to Seth and Liam.

He was happy with his house placement. Teddy fit in well with Hufflepuff, and he knew that if the Hat thought that this was the place for him, then Hufflepuff was where he would stay. After all, it couldn't be a bad thing, being in the friendliest of houses.


	2. Victorie Weasley

_2011_

Victoire stepped off of the Hogwarts Express for the first time, feeling a little anxious, though that was probably to be expected. After all, _tonight_ was her first night at Hogwarts, her first night more than just a phone call away from her parents, her night without any of her little cousins.

She had left her luggage on the train, just as Teddy had told her to do, and as Victoire looked around the platform, she was glad she had listened to Teddy's advice. A few of the first years had had to turn back around and drag their luggage back onto the train after realising their mistake.

"Firs' years over 'ere, firs' years over 'ere!" called a loud, booming voice, and Victoire looked up happily to see the large form of one Rubeus Hagrid, who towered over everyone else, including even the tallest of seventh years.

Hagrid was a friendly, familiar, face, who had known Victoire since birth, and had known Victoire's father even longer. Hagrid had even known Victoire's _grandparents_, having been at Hogwarts so long that there was scarcely a wizard or witch still alive who _didn't _remember the sight of the half-giant lumbering around the grounds of the school.

"Oi, Vic, wait for me, will you?" cried Mia Itterman, the tiny girl that Victoire had met on the train. Mia was short-so short that Victoire wondered if the girl was perhaps half-elf or something like that-and had a lovely, round face. Her dark curls were pinned back in an attempt to keep them under control, but they were already coming undone.

"Sorry, Mia, I'm just so…so…" Victoire struggled to find the proper emotion to express her delight at finally being at Hogwarts. This had been her dream for _ages_, but especially since Teddy had started two years ago. She had had plenty of dreams recently of wandering the halls of the school. The only problem was, Victoire could never quite imagine what colour the robes were that adorned her body in her dream Hogwarts.

"_I'm_ bloody excited, that's what _I _am," Mia said, pressing up playfully against Victoire. The tiny girl, her skin glowing in the lighting that made her look almost bistre in colour, grinned as Hagrid called out to them once more. "How can anyone stand to _wait_ this long, honestly? All I want to do is get sorted right away! I just _know_ I'll be in Gryffindor! It's the only place for me, don't you think, Victoire?"

"Of course it is," Victoire replied, wishing she was as confident as her friend. She had been debating which house she best fit into for months, but as her time until the sorting dwindled, Victoire had grown no closer to figuring out where she belonged. "I just wish I could say the same of myself. I mean, what if I end up in _Hufflepuff_, or worse, _Slytherin_?"

Mia wrinkled up her nose at the mention of Slytherin as she grabbed Victoire's hand, pulling them towards the cluster of murmuring first years.

"Isn't your friend in Hufflepuff, though? What's his name, Randy? Edmund?" Mia asked, following after Hagrid, who led them down a dirt path, away from the older students, and towards the lake that flowed underneath Hogwarts.

"Teddy, actually, and yes, he _is_ a Hufflepuff, but that doesn't mean that _I _want to be in Hufflepuff as well. Honestly, I'm not so sure that I want to be in _any_ of the houses. None of them seem to fit me very well." She sighed, looking down at her robes, wondering what colour her tie would be tomorrow morning. "I suppose that probably means I'll end up Hufflepuff, if I can't figure out anywhere else to be."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Vic. If the Hat thinks you belong with that group of doffers, then it clearly isn't doing its job right. You are _not_ a Hufflepuff, Vic, because, for one thing," she grinned up at the blonde with a teasing twinkle in her hazel eyes, "you're not exactly the _friendliest_ or most helpful person on the planet, now are you?"

"Hush, Mia," Victoire scolded, but she laughed anyway as they followed two boys into one of the little dingy boats that were waiting for them at the water's edge.

The boys, one taller than the rest of the first years, with sandy hair, shining green eyes and pale-as-the-moon skin, and the other with skin of a lovely, darker hue and large, expressive blue eyes, watched as Mia and Victoire climbed aboard.

"I'm Quentin Twillfitt, of Twillfitt and Tatters," said the sandy-haired boy when Victoire had taken her spot and the boat began its peaceful journey to the school. "And this is Caleb, of the Eddington clan."

"Mia Itterman, Victoire Weasley," Mia replied politely, and the four fell into an easy conversation, swapping stories about receiving their letters, and wondering what houses they would end up. Victoire felt the knots in her stomach loosen just a little.

…

"Itterman, Miabella," Professor Shrever, the Deputy Headmistress, said, and Mia twisted to give her new best friend a quick, and hopefully short-lived, good-bye before flouncing up to the stool, cheerfully letting Professor Shrever drop the Hat onto her head.

"Gryffindor!" the Hat yelled moments later, and Mia leapt back to her feet, joining Caleb at the Gryffindor table, where he high-fived her. Mia twisted to grin at Victoire, who stood, shaking, next to Quentin.

Victoire cursed her last name, for coming at the end of the alphabet. Why couldn't she have been born with a name that started with an L, like Teddy, or an I, like Mia? She would have even taken being a P, like her cousin James, if it meant not standing around for forever!

She felt her nails cutting into the skin of her palm, and Victoire took a deep breath, trying to relax herself. It would do no good to walk up to the Hat as a bundle of nerves. She would not want to end up like Nicholas Harper, of the Hufflepuff house, who had frozen stiff less than a metre from the Hat and had had to be helped the rest of the way.

"Twillfitt, Quentin!" Professor Shrever announced, and Victoire was shaken from her thoughts. She had missed nearly the entire Sorting now, too intently focused on her own nerves. As Quentin squeezed her hand and began the walk up to the stool, Victoire realised there were only six people left now to be sorted.

Four females and two males, and Victoire only vaguely recognised the males. Isaac Wilkerson and Mark Whittaker both had been mates of her's when she was very little, but judging from their silence, Victoire doubted they remembered her at all.

She was so nervous now that Victoire barely even registered the Hat directing Quentin towards the Gryffindor table.

Vanderpool, Alicia went next, and then Wagley, Ava-both Gryffindors. And, singing the alphabet quickly in her head, Victoire realised with a start that this could only mean one thing, that the next person being called was-

"Weasley, Victoire," Professor Shrever said in her always-bored tone, and Victoire jumped to attention, feeling as though her legs were suddenly made of jelly as she walked over to the stool and the ragged Hat.

"_Ah, a Weasley? Haven't had one of _those _in a while, now have we?_" murmured a male voice, causing Victoire to nearly leap off of the stool in fright. She had heard the Hat sing earlier, but assumed it to just be some sort of trick. No one had warned her that the Hat talked! "_Of course I talk, Ms. Weasley. What sort of Wizard's Hat would I be, if I couldn't even do that much? Now, let's see, about your sorting, hmm…"_

_You can read my thoughts?_ Victoire wondered in her head, to which she heard a throaty chuckle, presumably from the Hat, though Victoire hadn't felt it move at all.

"_Indeed, I can, Ms. Weasley. You're very inquisitive, aren't you? You want to know all about the whole, wide world, isn't that it?_" Victoire nodded tentatively, before remembering that the Hat could see everything in her head. "_Hm…I see courage here, as well, though. Great courage, and strength. You carry other's burdens like they were your very own. I suppose…yes, the best place to put you, Ms. Weasley…is _Gryffindor!"

Victoire grinned at the last word of the Hat's statement, tugging it off of her head and rushing to join her friends at the Gryffindor table.

She was so excited to be with them, to have been sorted and placed in the correct house, that she did not even notice the hurt look on Teddy's face as he glanced forlornly over at her from the Hufflepuff table.


	3. Asterion Parkinson

_2012_

Asterion glanced around at the other eleven years old, struggling to keep the bored expression off of his face. While the other first years seemed to stressing about what test it was, exactly, that they were to be given to determine where they would be placed, Asterion could only stare around and wonder why everyone was so worried.

Surely they did not truly think that they would be put into any sort of danger for something quite as dumb as a simple Sorting? Or, was it possible that Asterion was the only one here who knew the truth to how the Sorting occurred?

Had _no one else's_ parents told them at all? Not even the other Purebloods or the muggleborns? Asterion made eye contact, briefly, Booker Zabini, and saw the fear that rested in even _his_ eyes. Was it possible that Blaise Zabini truly had _not_ told his oldest son the truth?

Asterion wanted to laugh; _his_ mother had informed him about the nature behind the Sorting last night, over dinner, explaining to Asterion that it was only just a stupid Hat and that the big secret was only meant to be at the first years' expenses.

"A bloody _Hat_, do you hear me?" she had grumbled, wrestling Asterion's three year old half-brother, Alec, into his chair. "That's all it is. You put the damn thing on your head and it looks at your insides, I mean your mind and such, and tells you where you belong based on that. There's nothing about a troll or some written exam, or anything else they might try to tell you. It's just a _Hat_."

"Damn Hat!" Astonia, his five year old half-sister, had yelled, banging on the table, and Alec had begun to cry while Astonia continued chanting. It was times like this that Asterion wished his mother had never dated anyone except for his dad, and _certainly_ that she had never had Astonia or Alec.

"Hey, Parkinson, you awake in there?" demanded a sharp female voice, pulling Asterion from his memories with a tug to his sleeve. "The deputy headmistress is heading this way, so you might want to look smart there."

Asterion blinked and looked down at the little ginger girl who barely even stood high to his shoulder; she had large, expressive grey eyes and a determined look on her face, like the sort of person who was willing to punch others to get things done.

"How do you know my name…?" he asked, but the girl only gave him a mysterious smile that made Asterion feel like maybe she could read his mind. Or perhaps it was his distinctive Parkinson nose that gave away his maternal parentage.

(As long she didn't know about Asterion's father, the man who's Asterion had only heard for the first time on his eleventh birthday back in July. Only two people now knew the name of Asterion's father, including himself.)

"Maggie Fox," the girl said brusquely, sticking out her hand to shake, which Asterion took with some slight confusion. "I'm going to be in Gryffindor when all of this is over. I don't care _how_ it is that we get placed, but I _know_ I'll be wearing red and gold by the time it's through. My brother, on the other hand…probably _not_."

She directed her attention towards a redheaded male standing by himself just a few metres away. He was separated from the rest of the first years, with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his robes, and a scowl on his face.

Asterion could see the similarities between the two siblings, though they seemed to be very different in nature, at least from this first introduction.

"Brandon certainly isn't a Gryffindor, if you ask me," Maggie continued, sounding calmer than anyone else here, despite not having any idea what was waiting for them ahead. "He's more of a Ravenclaw, or a Slytherin, and I _hope_ he doesn't try to get in with me in Gryffindor. I have been _dreaming_ of the day that we would finally be separate. Anyway," she took a deep breath, looking Asterion up and down, "what house do you think _you'll_ be in?"

"Slytherin, no doubt about it," Asterion replied immediately. _Especially since I know _how_ the Sorting works. Even if that dumb Hat tries to put me anywhere else, I'll make _sure_ I end up in Slytherin._ "Both my mother and father were in Slytherin. Actually, _most_ of my family has been in Slytherin, so it's very unlikely that I'll end up anywhere else." He chuckled, more to himself than to Maggie. "As though I would _want_ to be anywhere else."

"If you'll follow me," announced a tall, lean Indian woman, making many of the first years jump, and Asterion to snigger at their jumpy nerves. "We are ready for you in the Great Hall now. If you'd please, organise yourself into straight lines and we can begin the Sorting shortly."

"Hope you get into the House that you want, then, Parkinson," Maggie said as the two of them are bustled and shoved into the lines of chittering, nervous eleven year olds. "Though I must say, putting yourself in Slytherin just because that's where most of your family ended up seems a bit silly to me. I would think you would rather just let yourself be in the house that _you_ belong in, not the house your _family_ says you belong in."

"Psycho," Asterion mumbled under his breath as he followed Maggie into the Great Hall, wondering how humorous the expressions of the other first years would be when they finally realised that the Sorting was little more than dropping a Hat on their heads.

…

"Parkinson, Asterion," Deputy Headmistress Shrever announced, and Asterion made his way over to the woman who had led them into the Great Hall. Professor Shrever handed him the Hat, plunging Asterion into total darkness.

"_Mhmm_," the Hat said into Asterion's ear, but he did his best to not react. His mother has told him the Hat would speak to him, and that it would speak briefly about his placing at Hogwarts. "_Ah, a Parkinson? I've not sorted one of you since..."_

"Since my mother was in school, yes, I know," Asterion muttered to the Hat, wishing it would just shut up and put him in Slytherin where he belonged. His mother had not mentioned that the Hat might like to chat while placing him.

"_There is not a whole lot else for me to do, Mr. Parkinson, not considering that I spend much of my time resting in the Head's office all year. And does anyone visit me? No, hardly ever do they remember the dear Hat that set them on their course for life,"_ the Hat sniffed disdainfully, feigning insult.

At least, Asterion assumed the Hat was feigning. After all, it was only a piece of cloth held together by magic. It shouldn't even _have_ emotions at all.

_"Ah, but I __do__, Mr. Parkinson, I do."_ The Hat sighed, or did the closest equivalent of a sigh that a Hat could manage. "_However, now is not the time to debate levels of sentience, Mr. Parkinson. You have to be placed into a house somewhere, and it is my job to place you where I best see you fitting. Hmm, certainly no Hufflepuff, you, not with that sarcastic nature of yours. Not much of a Gryffindor, either, since you don't seem to be struggling under the weight of a hero's complex. Hm, let me see, where would you best fit in, Mr. Parkinson? Ah, I think I've figured it out now, you can only truly be a _Slytherin!"

Asterion jumped off of the stool, calmly making his way over to the house of green and silver, where he joined Brandon Fox, the surly twin of Maggie, who, even from the other side of the Hall, could clearly be seen glowering at the sight of Asterion nestled in the house of snakes.

_Too bad,_ Asterion thought to himself. _I'm right where I belong, Miss Maggie Fox, even if you don't think so._ Asterion smirked to himself, ready to begin his time as a Slytherin. He was already filled with a hunger to prove himself, to prove that he _belonged_.

_I'm right where I'm supposed to be._


	4. Molly Weasley

_2012_

"_We won't mind what house you end up in, Molly. All that we ask is that you make us proud. Your mother and I, we won't care if you don't end up in Gryffindor like I was, because we know that the Hat never makes a mistake. If it puts you in a certain house, then that must mean that you _belong_ in that house. Do you understand, Molly?"_

"_I think so, Daddy. I'm just worried that I won't fit in at Hogwarts. What if I don't make friends with anyone, or if the work is too hard, or if…" Molly stopped to take a breath, taking in the slight chuckle that emanated from her father._

"_Don't stress yourself out before you even step foot into the school, Molly. It's okay to be nervous, but you also need to remind yourself that, no matter what happens, your cousin Victoire is there, and she'll be willing to help with any problems you have. You can trust family, Molly_."

_Her father pushed Molly towards the train, Mum standing just behind him, waving good-bye, as little eight year old Lucy demanded to be allowed to come with Molly to Hogwarts, even though Daddy had spent many hours explaining that she had to be eleven years old to go to Hogwarts._

"_Molly! Molly!" Lucy cried as Molly climbed aboard the train, and though Molly turned to look at her younger sister, there were older students grumbling at her to just _get on already, firstie_, and by the time she had been tugged inside and found a window to peer out of, the train had begun to chug out of the station, and away from Lucy._

Molly wished she had been able to say a proper good-bye to Lucy before departing for Hogwarts; the poor little girl would have to go a full four months before she saw Molly again, the longest time the two sisters had been separated since Lucy had been brought home from St. Mungo's more than eight years previously.

Overall, the whole ride to Hogwarts had been a long list of firsts for Molly; the first time she had ever been away from her sister for more than a few hours, the first time she had ever left England, the first time she had ever been on a train.

It was all terribly exciting, but at the same time, the eleven year old felt her palms moisten with sweat, and she wondered if perhaps she should have begged Daddy to let her put off Hogwarts for another year.

The other girls that were in her compartment (a tiny redhead named Maggie, a cold-eyed blond named Lilly, and a quiet brunette named Beatrice) had encouraged Molly the whole trip, telling her that, once they actually got to the school, she would be excited, but Molly still worried that eleven years old was simply just not mature enough to be going to school all the way in _Scotland_.

After all, what if something happened to Daddy or Mum or Lucy while she was gone? Or what if something happened Nana or Granddad Weasley, or one of her little cousins, and Molly wasn't around to help?

Oh, there were just so many things to worry about! Though Molly tried to convince herself that nothing would happen while she was gone, she still just could not quite calm herself enough to relax the panicked voice in her head.

"You okay, Weasley?" asked Lilly as she finished pulling her black robes over her head, giving Molly a peculiar look.

The shorter girl nodded, wishing it were true, but then Maggie sat down next to her on the seat, leaning over to give Molly a quick hug that left her startled. She had learnt, since the beginning of the trip, that Maggie Fox was a very forward person, but the sudden hug still shocked Molly into momentary silence.

"It'll be okay, Molly. Soon enough, you'll be having so much fun at Hogwarts that you won't remember why you were nervous in the first place," Maggie said brightly, hugging Molly again and grinning.

"Thanks, Maggie," Molly replied, at a loss for words; but, she thought to herself, she _did _feel a little better about starting school now.

By then, the Hogwarts Express had pulled into the station, and Molly had _yet_ to see her cousin Victoire anywhere on the train, despite Daddy's promises that Vic would be waiting for Molly, to help the younger girl get situated.

Perhaps Victoire had forgotten about her promise, or she had gotten distracted, or even worse, maybe she was now hurt, somewhere aboard the train, and unable to get to Molly. _Oh_. _Oh_. What if something happened to Victoire?

Molly almost started to cry at the thought, but as the others in her compartment bustled around to get out, she realised it would do no good to cry. If Victoire _was_ hurt, then Molly would be of no help sitting on the train, bawling her eyes out like a little kid.

…

_"Molly Weasley, hmm,"_ the Hat murmured into her ear, a soft, crooning voice that immediately set the eleven year old at ease. She could trust the Hat, Molly felt, to put her in the right house. The Hat knew where she belonged better than anyone else, because the Hat could see into her head and into her heart, and knew exactly in which house to put her for the next seven years. _"I see we are very trusting, Ms. Weasley. Friendly, too, I can tell, with lots of enthusiasm. And, ah, a desire to work hard and be noticed for your efforts. Of course, of course, it's all so clear to me."_

"You can see all of that inside of me?" Molly asked, astonished that the Hat could find character traits that Molly herself did not even quite understand. The Hat had put into words the things that she had always felt, but never been able to properly describe, even to herself. "You can see potential in me?"

"_Of course I can, Ms. Weasley. I can see the potential inside every student who has ever stepped foot inside of Hogwarts. Oh, what one might do with their talents is never mine to assume, but I can see every possibility, ever potential outcome that you might achieve, depending on what house you end up in, and what choices you make while you are here._"

The Hat's voice was reassuring, and Molly knew it was telling the truth. Wherever the Hat put her, it must be the best possible outcome for her. After all, the Hat _wanted_ students to succeed, didn't it? She trusted that it knew what to do.

"_I have decided now, Ms. Weasley_," the Hat said softly, and Molly nodded. "_The only place for someone so gentle and caring as you is _HUFFLEPUFF!"

This last word was roared to the entire school, almost making Molly fall off the stool; the next thing she knew, Professor Shrever was escorting her away from the Hat, down the steps to the sound of thunderous applause.

She caught a glimpse of her cousin, Victoire, sitting tall amongst the Gryffindors, and Molly waved as she made her way to the Hufflepuff table, where the older students congratulate her. Victoire waved back, flashing the younger girl a grin before turning back to look at a tiny dark-skinned girl next to her, Molly already gone from her mind.

"Congratulations, Molly, well done!" Teddy Lupin, a fourth year who Molly had practically grown up with, called over to her, moving closer to clap the girl on the back. "We're all very proud of you."

The others at the Hufflepuff table nodded eagerly, and she heard "good job" and "welcome to Hufflepuff" several more times before everyone fell quiet to watch as Wells, Yvette is sorted into Ravenclaw.

Molly smiled to herself as the sorting wrapped itself up with the last two students (Zabini, Booker to Slytherin and Zamora, Adrian to Gryffindor) are placed.

She already couldn't wait to see the Hufflepuff common rooms, where she would be properly acquainted with all of the other Hufflepuffs; she could already imagine the new friends she would make, the secrets they would share with each other.

Molly also couldn't wait to write home to Mum and Daddy about her sorting. They would be so _proud _of her, being put int the friendliest of the four houses! And Lucy would probably love to get a letter, too, Molly reminded herself.

Her time at Hogwarts had only just begun, but Molly could harldy wait.


	5. Dominique Weasley

_2014_

"Are you excited, Domi?" her brother asked, straining against Mum's grip to swat at Dominique's side. "Going to end up a Gryffindor, like Vic?"

"Maybe," Dominique replied, though she did not think her chances of being placed in the house of lions was very likely. Victoire was as bold as they came, so Gryffindor was the only logical place for her; but Dominique had never felt that she belonged in the same house as most of her family had been sorted into.

"Just remember that we'll love you no matter where you end up, alright?" her father said softly, and Dominique swivelled around to give her father a thankful smile. "It's not my job to pressure you to any particular house over another. Just go where you feel comfortable, okay? And don't let the Hat go into every detail of your life just to find the right place."

"Yes, we do not want you to be pressured," Dominique's mum added somewhat awkwardly. She had not attended Hogwarts, having been born and raised in France, and therefore attended Beauxbatons Academy.

Mum knew very little about the importance of where the Hat put you, and even after Dad had explained it to her, she still seemed rather puzzled by the whole idea.

Dominique nodded, jumping down from the trolly that was carrying her luggage in order to run at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, rushing ahead of her older sister to be the _first _one to reach the Hogwarts Express.

After all, today was meant to be about _Dominique_. Victoire had had her three years already, as the only child at Hogwarts, and next year would be Louis' first time, so Dominique fully intended on making her first trip to Hogwarts important.

"You're ready, right, Domi?" Dad asked as he came through the barrier after her, Louis and Mum following shortly after.

Victoire was the last one through the barrier, a prim look on her face as she pushed her trolley past Dominique and towards the train.

"You have everything, right? Eager to make friends and earn lots of points and make Mum and I proud? Not, of course, that we're trying to say you _have_ to do anything to make us proud, because Mum and I love you no matter what."

"I know, Dad," Dominqiue replied, holding back a laugh at her father's suddenly attentive nature. She knew her father was only_ hovering _because he was worried about saying good-bye, but it was still funny to see the great Bill Weasley acting like a mother hen.

"You will write every day, yes?" her mum asked in the carefully spoken way she had, still not comfortable with English even after having lived here for nineteen years.

"Once a week, Mum," Dominique groaned. "Only once a week!"

"She'd have nothing to say, anyway, if she wrote us once a day, Fleur. And besides that, we'd tire out the poor owl, having him fly back and forth to Hogwarts every day."

"I suppose you are right, Bill."

"Can I get on the train?" Louis asked loudly, tugging at Dominique's trunk, while Dominique watched in amusement, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. "I want to see what it looks like."

"You'll see next year, Louis. But today is about your sister, since it's her first time. Now, help me get this on the train." Dad said, lifting one end of the trunk with ease. "You'll be sitting with your sister, at least for this first ride, Dominique. Is that okay?"

"Okay, Dad," Dominique replied, giving him another bright smile, though on the inside, she was scowling. _No_, it wasn't okay that she would be spending the whole train ride with Vic and all of Vic's giggly Gryffindor friends.

Dominique had dealt with enough of Vic's friends over the summer, having been kicked out of her own bedroom for three whole weeks while Vic entertained the other four girls who shared her dorm.

It had been a miserable two weeks for the eleven year old, who had quick discovered that the older girls wanted very little to do with Victoire's tag-along little sister, and she had spent most of the month of July wandering up and down the beaches near Shell Cottage.

Dominique sighed, pushing down on the spoiled memories of the summer, doing her best to focus on what was important _now_; after all, she would only start Hogwarts once in her life, and it wouldn't do to let her feelings for Victoire put her in a sour mood before she had even started.

"Good-bye, Dad, Mum," she said, giving her parents both a hug and a kiss on the cheek, giving them her boldest smile. Though her stomach was still doing flips, as it had been doing all morning much to her annoyance, she was determined to remain as calm as she could.

"Good luck with your sorting, dear," Dad said with a small grin, making Dominique want to laugh. Her father did not know that, unlike many first years coming into Hogwarts, Dominique was already aware of how the sorting process worked. "Do try to not hurt the troll _too _terribly, alright?"

"No, Dad, I won't," Dominique replied, laughing as she gave her brother a last kiss, which he wiped off with a noise of disgust. "I'll write, to tell you where I ended up, okay?"

"We will be waiting, then," Mum said solemnly. "Good-bye, _ma chérie_, and do not forget to have a good time while you are there, yes? _Je te aime et tu vas me manquer_!" Her mum was beginning to sniffle lightly, so Dominique gave her a hug and hopped onto the train.

Stomach still training for a gymnastics routine, despite Dominique's attempts to calm herself, the little girl began to drag her trunk down the hall in search of her older sister, or perhaps her cousins Molly or Freddie.

After all, if everything was different now, she might as well do her best to adapt to all of the changes and prepare for this new life at Hogwarts.

…

"Are you as nervous as I am for the sorting?" Dominique heard a boy whisper behind her, and though she knew the question was not for her, Dominique considered it to quietly to herself anyway, surprised to find that the answer was, in fact, _no_.

Though her stomach had fluttered and twisted itself the entire train ride up to Hogwarts, overcome with the nerves of being separated from her family, and all the new experiences of school, Dominique found that she felt fine now.

She was not nervous about where the Hat would place her when it called her up and her nerves did not reemerge even as the list of names continued, the pool of waiting first years shrinking rapidly, until there were only roughly a half dozen students waiting, including Dominique's younger cousin, Freddie.

"Weasley, Dominique," Professor Shrever announced in a loud voice, calling Dominique up to the Hat.

Unlike most first years, though, she was not nervous about the actual sorting itself. Dominique already had an inkling of where she belonged, out of the four houses, but it was not red and gold that called her name, unlike Victoire.

The Hat was dropped onto Dominique, nearly covering her entire head, and she waited for the sound of the Hat's voice in her mind, which Molly had told her was customary; the Hat, Molly claimed, would discuss with Dominique where she best fit in at Hogwarts.

But there was no whispering voice, no pondering noises from the Hat as Dominique counted out the seconds. One…two…three-

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat yelled to the waiting student body, who appeared to be rather stunned, as the Hat had barely rested on Dominique's head for more than a few seconds.

There was some murmuring amongst the crowd, amazed to see that the Sorting Hat, which had taken it's time enough when placing Victoire and Molly, barely even considered Dominique's options for housing placement.

As with many of the more controversial sortings, there were those who questioned the Hat's placing of a _Weasley_ in Ravenclaw; after all, most Weasleys were not known for their brain, and the Hat's abrupt selection did little to put the mystery of Dominique's qualifications at rest.

But the little blonde only smiled out at the crowd and made her way over to the mildly stunned Ravenclaw table.

With a small flip of her hair and a try-me-out expression on her face, Dominique slipped between two older boys at the Ravenclaw table

"Weasley, Frederick." Professor Shrever continued with her list; Dominique waved to her cousin as he made his way up to the Hat for his own sorting, but her mind had already mostly turned to other matters.


End file.
